Credo
by Crunch
Summary: What I believe... not all that much, now that you mention it. Christ. There's got to be something... oh, here we go. I believe in me.
1. Luca Conlon

Well, the idea is strange, and the inspiration behind it is a smidge embarrassing (it involves a savage garden song. . . for shame). But hey, if you guys like it, why not keep it going?  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Please don't judge the fic by this stunningly witty disclaimer.  
  
* * * * * * * * *  
  
The Credo of Luca "Spot" Conlon  
  
~*~  
  
What I believe. . . well, not all that much, now that you mention it.  
  
I believe. . .  
  
I believe. . .  
  
Christ. There's gotta be something. . . oh, here we go. I got it.  
  
Here's something. I believe in me.  
  
Yeah, that's right. I believe in me, in my own two hands, my own two fists. I believe that everything I need, I can get with these fists. My fists. See em? They may be small, but you won't be laughing long, not when your nursing two black eyes and shitting out teeth for the next month or so. Cause my fists may be small, but they're strong. Just like me.  
  
There. That's another thing.  
  
I believe that I'm small, but I am mighty.  
  
I believe that Spot Conlon don't need no one or nothing to get by, cause I made it this far all by myself. Me. I did it. And that's another thing.  
  
Fate; I don't believe in it. Not for a second.  
  
Though it's a pretty nice thought, aint it? A plan for everything, a path for every person. Que sera sera and all that goddamn trash- whatever will be will be. You don't got the job you wanted? No problem. It wasn't meant to be. Didn't screw Mrs. Perfect when you had the chance? Let it go. It just aint in the cards. Never went to France? To Spain? Never went anywhere at all? Don't matter- it'll happen when it happens, if it's even supposed to happen.  
  
There, you see how nice that is? You see how easy? Fate. It means all you gotta do is sit back and wait for your destiny to ride up on a white fuckin horse and carry you off down the path chosen for you.  
  
Bullshit.  
  
There are only two paths in this world, as far as I can see: the path you take, and the path you don't. The things you will do, and the things you won't do. Me, there aint a lot I won't do, now that I know. Cause once you figure out the game, you learn to play around the rules. It gets a helluva lot easier to seize the day when you know for sure that there aint no one or nothing seizing it for you.  
  
That's how I see it, each time I pick a genuine leather wallet from a rich man's vest pocket, each time I feel my knuckles grind into bone, each time I pull the trigger. That's all I'm doing, see. I'm just seizing the day.  
  
Fate.  
  
Get outta here.  
  
Let me tell you what fate's done for me. It got me born behind a fishing shack on the docks a' Brooklyn. It got me left there for two days, bundled up in a rusted old lobster trap with a bald and dirty towel and a note on the back of a diaper that said "pleez, luk after my baybee." It got me found by a booze jockey who. . . who wasn't the father I had in mind, any more than I was the kid he had in mind. That's what fate's done for me. Everything else, I done for myself.  
  
That's what I believe.  
  
I believe I aint gonna be here forever. Let Jacky Boy have his Santa Fe, wherever the hell that is. Let Cappy have his Maine and let Manca have his Italy. Me, I think I'll head up some place cool, some place nice and cold. I don't much like swimming, and I can't stand the heat; the way it lays across ya like sandpaper. Give me wind, give me snow, and lots of it.  
  
That's another thing. I believe I'm gonna roll around in the snow one day, I'm gonna jump and run in it, 'stead of freezing in it. Yeah, I like that.  
  
I believe that when I get up north, I'll get to be a kid. Not a leader, not a tyrant, not a goddamn martyr. Just a kid.  
  
Well, when it comes down to it, I believe I'm lying to myself there. I'll always be a leader. It's the way I am. . . what's so bad about that? Who else would lead if I didn't? Who else could do it all, everything I do, and still sleep at night? Yeah, that's what I thought.  
  
Just one more thing.  
  
I believe in God. I believe there is a God, and I believe that when I meet the guy, He'll forgive me for who I am, and all the things I done.  
  
Least I sure as hell hope He will.  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
So. . . what say the masses? Should I continue with the newsie credos, or keep my day job? Oh, here's a thought. Tell me in a REVIEW. . . *nudge cough wink* And if you deem this fic worthy of continuation. . . I hope I hope. . . who should come next? Well, have at you, masses! 


	2. Maxwell Higgins

Back for more ey? Lovely!  
  
And look! Reviews! You reviewed me, you wonderful people! And thus, my shout outs are at the bottom. . .  
  
But now, on with the fic!  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The Credo of Maxwell "Racetrack" Higgins.  
  
~*~  
  
What do I believe? What do I believe? I believe that a flush is a sure bet for a winning hand, and a winning hand at the Lucky Break Lodge will make you fifty cents, easy, and I believe you couldn't buy yourself the brains to leave me alone even if you had a buck. Now go 'way and let a guy smoke in piece.  
  
You still here?  
  
Well, alright, if you really wanna know. I believe. . . I believe what I can see. If I can't see it, and I can't touch it, and especially if I can't smoke, drink or eat it, than it aint no good to me. Hell, if wishes was horses, we'd be knee deep in crap, you know?  
  
I believe in money in my pockets and a dame on my arm. Thank you, you've been great, try the hot dogs and goodnight.  
  
What, that aint good enough for ya? S'what I believe, and that's what you asked. More? Alright.  
  
Here's what I think. . . what I BELIEVE, if ya like. There aint nothing that can't be explained away. No ghosts or monsters or axe-murderers, like Snipe Shooter lays awake at night crying into his quilt over.  
  
There's another thing. I believe crying never did anyone no good. But where was I. . .  
  
No ghosts, no monsters, no angels. I use to believe in angels. . . only natural, mama being a rosary-wearing Italian regatsi, and Da being a God- fearing son of Eire. But I don't believe anymore, cause I seen a little too much. You get me?  
  
I believe the grass is green for a reason, and the dirt is brown for a reason, and it's no use wondering why the grass aint blue and the dirt aint purple. Things are the way they are. Live with it.  
  
Now Mush, he aint figured that out yet. But most of the boys are coming around. they live with me, don't they? How can they not learn a thing or two under my capable tutelage. Tutelage- you like that one? Davey taught it to me. It means guidance, you know that? And if you need guidance, I'm your man. If you need a tip on the races, or an extra ace for your deck, I'm the man. I'm a good one for getting things.  
  
And if you want an extra loaf of bread at night, or a little help with the ladies, or if you're just a scared little guy and you want a bedtime story before you nod off, I'm you man. And those things, I won't even dream of charging you for.  
  
Sometimes, I even believe Mush when he says I'm a better person than I think I am. But then, what does that bum know?  
  
Still, once in a while, I think I might be a good guy. Like when I'm with Rosie; laying with Rosie, eating with Rosie, doing Rosie. . . she makes me feel good enough.  
  
I believe I'm gonna marry that girl someday.  
  
Speaking a girls, have you seen Medda's show lately? It's gotten a helluva lot racier, if you know what I mean. I believe that girl's got some bristols even Specs could be proud of, and we all know how Specs swings.  
  
Well, maybe not all of us.  
  
And love? Do I believe in love? I believe it makes people do stupid things, crazy things, dangerous things. I believe it's what got my Mama done by my Da, and what got them married seven months later, and what got me born two months after that. I believe it's what got me sent to America when I was six, so I could have a better life. Huh. Would ya get a load of that?  
  
What else is there? I think you're asking too much of me, Pal. I told you what I think. . . but you want something else? Alright, here's one more for the road.  
  
I told you I don't believe in angels, and I don't much believe in God, and if he's up there, he aint doing a thing to convince me otherwise. I don't believe in people, because from what I seen of them, and I've seen an awful lot, they aint worth my time to believe. So I don't.  
  
But I do believe in enemies and brothers and friends. And I believe in my friends, my brothers, and what they can do. Hell, they stopped the world between them, didn't they? We all stopped the goddamn world. Maybe they're better than they give themselves credit for, or maybe they're too stupid to know they can't do half the thing that they manage to do. But either way, they do great things. Every one of them. I know, I've seen it.  
  
Hell, you know what I seen yesterday? Dutchy, with a girl. Our own Dutchy got his self a girl. Well if that don't tell you that anything is possible, I dunno what will.  
  
I believe I'll take that drink now.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
And now, as promised, the shout outs:  
  
Klover- thanks dahl, good to be back! Well alright then, here's Racetrack, just for you. (but don't tell the others. . . they'll get jealous!)  
  
Misprint- *pokes* Mispriiint, I'm Crunnnch. Like cinnamon toast, the taste you can see! Eh heh. . . well, it may be the fifth time you've done it, but I forgive you, because I got a lovely review from the Einstein of the writing world (that's you, dahling) so thanks muchly! Do it again!  
  
Carmen Maria- Wow. . . I'd say thanks, but it wouldn't be a strong enough word. Still. . . Thanks! You're a wonderful writer yourself, and it's always nice to know that those better than me approve! Really, I appreciate that- I'm always so paranoid about my characterization, so I'm glad you think it's on. Aww, the fate part. . . yeah, that pretty much took all the angst I could give it, and I'm not angsty as a rule, so I'm glad it worked! And yes, just for you dahl, expect to see a Blink chapter very shortly. Thanks again!  
  
Kellyanne- Really?? You think so? Thanks! I'm glad my characterization came through for you; I'm always such a ball of paranoia about that. Well alright then, I'll continue! And here, a Racetrack chapter, just for you (just, a. . . don't tell the others.) Thanks again! Pst. . . come back and review again, why doncha?  
  
Glimmer- Oh, I do like that song. . . *hums in an offensively bad voice* Thankds, dahling! Ooh, jeeze, you flatter me far too much. . .not that I mind. ;) Really? Alright, than I'll continue, and yes, please do read! Oh, some one actually wants to read chapter two- this is so exciting! I'm so excited. . . and I just can't hide it. . . ahem hem. Come again!  
  
Shade- Oy vey Shadey, you're a hard one to keep up with. *presents you with Canadian Spot, complete with Eskimo jacket and maple leaf flag* Thank you, come again!  
  
Vioshine- yay, it's a Vioshine review! I love those! Oh, I'm so glad you approve, Cause I'm a puddle of paranoid when it comes to characterization. (and if you have said it, I don't mind at all that you've said it again ;) ) Thanks so much! And if you ever have any suggestions for improvement, PLEASE feel free to tear into the chapter all you can! Criticism from Vioshine = good. Alright, I shall continue. Second chapter is Racetrack, but don't worry. . . expect so see Dutchy VERY soon (he's already in the works, but keep it hush hush, ey?) Thanks again, dahl! 


	3. Nikolas Meyers

The Credo of Nikolas "Mush" Meyers  
  
~*~  
  
Oh, boy, that's a good question. That's tough, cause I believe in a lot of things. Where do I start?  
  
Jeeze, I aint good at this sort of thing. Blink could set you at a table and talk for hours about what he thinks, same with Bumlits. I dunno about Jacky- he don't talk that much when he don't have to. Davey could tell you what he thinks. . . but honestly, it would be boring. I aint trying to be mean, it's just that I don't get a lot of what Davey says. He's real smart, you know? Real smart. Just like Race. So is Skittery, for that matter. A lot smarter than he thinks he is. But to tell you the truth, I don't think Skittery could say what he believes in anymore. I don't think he believes in much.  
  
But what do I know? I guess that's all just what I believe. So there you go, that's a start.  
  
I believe lots of other stuff, too. I believe what Bumlits says about the sky being blue cause there's a big old ocean up there, but no one drowns in it, and no one gets cold in it. Bumlits is part Indian, and I like the stories he tells. I like them better than Davey's stories about gas and rocks and water vapor, and such. Davey doesn't tell very good stories.  
  
I believe that Boots is only ten years old, even though he says he's fifteen. He's too small!  
  
And I believe Snipe shooter when he says he's a twen'y year old runaway from the Brooklyn circus. Most of the guys don't, but I seen stranger things happen. So who's to say he aint from the circus? He is awfully short. . .  
  
And another thing. I don't believe Bumlits when he says he likes girls.  
  
Oh, I know the girls like him. You should see it when Skitts and Blink and Bum go out at night. They may be dirty, but that aint a problem for the girls. You should hear them all squawking about how pretty those boys are!  
  
But if you'd ever seen Bumlits and Specs together, seen them like I seen them, that day behind the outhouse on Kent street, then you'd start to wonder, too. I'm not stupid, you know. I hear what they say about me, but it aint true. I know what's what.  
  
I know Specs didn't have something in his eye. I don't believe it, I know it.  
  
But I won't tell. Because I believe Specs and Bum are good guys, even if they are. funny.  
  
And that reminds me- there's something else I believe. I believe people don't know what they're talking about when they say that guys like Bumlits are queer and evil, and guys like Davey are rich and evil, and guys like me and Boots are dumb as dirt and evil. I think they're wrong, and one day, they have to realize it, they have to. That's what I believe.  
  
Cause things can't always turn out bad for us kids, you know? We been kicked out, stepped on, left alone and hungry. . . boy, you don't know how hungry we get. Sometimes Skitts and Blink go to bed early, just to forget how much their stomachs hurt, even if it's a Saturday night! But things can't happen like that forever, you know? Sometimes they gotta turn out good.  
  
I believe that, too.  
  
See, I believe the world won't let a kid like me get lost in the grind. I mean, I aint stupid or nothing. I know New York, know it like the back of me hand. I know it swallows everything it touches. . . orphans, men in fancy suits, Irish ladies with hunchbacks. But. . . but it can't happen to me! Because. . . because the world isn't that mean. You know?  
  
And. . . and I believe. . . that we'll all get out someday. At least Jack will, cause Jack deserves it, even though he's done bad things in the past, real bad. Things I couldn't tell you about and still be here in the morning. And the others. . . I hope we all will.  
  
I hope we will. . . But I don't know. Sometimes I don't.  
  
I believe there's an answer to every problem, no matter how big. God don't give you a problem you can't solve, or a wish you can't make happen. He only gives us what He thinks we can take. That's what my sister used to say. She wanted to be a nun, you see.  
  
I believe my sister is still alive, and one of these days, I'll get to the bread wagon parked outside Doonbury Square and she'll be sitting on it, high as you like, and she'll pass me a cup of coffee. Someday. . .  
  
Cause I believe in Someday. I gotta, cause there aint nothing else out there. You know? If you were me, you would know. And you'd believe too. You'd have to.  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
Well, the masses said Mush. . . so there he is. I'm not sure I'm happy with this one- what do you think?  
  
And now, for the shout outs:  
  
Gothic Author- ( Really?? You think so? Yay! I was worried I made him too grouchy, so I'll take quintessential gladly! Thanks, though you're far too kind. And now that you've heard Mush. . . still impressed? *does some random anxious action, cause she doesn't bite her nails* Thanks again!  
  
Klover- no fear, dahling, no fear, Blink is on his way. I just had to get in the mooood for Blink. *cracks knuckles* Actually, I just have to think of something to write. But no worries, he'll come soon!  
  
Kellyanne- Thanks! *glomps Racetrack as well* He is just SO glompable. Glad you like it! And now, just for you dahl, a Mush chapter. . . though I fear it was crappy, I did what I could! *dodges rotten tomatoes* Ah, Specs. . . I understand, I quite understand. And he's to come soon! Thanks again!  
  
Rumor- Rumor! Really? Thanks muchly, dahl. I'm glad it worked for you, since I'm still characterization-paranoid. . . if that's an actual disorder. I think it might be. Well, far be it for me to keep you waiting, so here's more! Enjoy and *cough* review. . . .  
  
Shadells- *nods in affirmation* Yes, shadey. Yes he is.  
  
Merp- Thanks! Your wows and votes of confidence are undeserved, but very very encouraging none the less. . . which is the long, rambley way of saying thanks muchly. And see that? I updated! Hoo rah.  
  
Keza- Keza! *glomptacklegrape* you reviewed me! You REVIEWED MEEEE! Really? You like dahling? Then I shall certaintly continue it, just for you. (but don't tell the others. .. they get so jealous.) *cowers under Keza's not-quite-threatening threats* See? Updated. Good on me.  
  
Keza again- *laughs along with you*  
  
Glimmer- Why thank you, Dahl. I amuse me too. Far more than I should. He is SO fun! But isn't he hard, too? I mean, I always found him quite challenging, but then I'm challenged like that. Oh, be sure to tell me when your fic is up so I can leave lots of reviewerish love. And he is, isn't he? Here ya go! 


End file.
